and i have work to do tomorrow so i need to know now so i can plan for it

anonymous asked:

What's your take on the world ending for the Greek Gods? Or when they cease to be relevant to mankind, and what happens to them? Would Athena, Aphrodite and Artemis take the streets and march for Pride? Would Demeter be the manager at a zoo?

Time passes. The world changes. Temples fall. People now speak their names as if they are fairytales.

The gods are dead.

~

Apollo’s chariot lies broken and forgotten in the ruins of a city no one knows the name of anymore. He watches the sun crawl across the sky of its own volition, without him to push it forward.

“Do you miss it?” Artemis asks him, appearing by his side.  They stand at the top of a sparkling glass building, almost the same as ever. She walks among the mortals more than he does, she always has, and She’s dressed like one of them. Tight clothes and half her head shaved, sparkling gems curling up the delicate shell of her ear. She looks like one of the teenagers that fill his concert stadiums.

He thinks of the way his chariot threatened to escape his grasp every morning, the oppressive heat of the sun beating down on him, the burns and the undercurrent of fear that one day he would lose his grip on the reins and plunge the world into darkness.

Apollo leans his head on his sister’s shoulder. The sun rises slower without him, but it rises just the same. “No. Not really.”

~

Hephaestus’s workshop has evolved with the times – from a volcano base to a modern lab, but always a workshop bursting with creation. The cyclopes are still his best assistants.

Aphrodite steps over discarded parts and expertly walks around frantic cyclopes carrying bubbling concoctions. Her dark hair is swept up in a bun and she wears chunky glasses and a blood red pantsuit that almost hides the fact she’s the most beautiful woman to walk the earth. “I have a client, try not to blow up the house. Again.”

“Yes dear,” he says, but doesn’t looks away from his soldering. She hadn’t expected him too. His prosthetics are off and on the floor besides him, and he’s seated on a too-tall chair to compensate for the loss of height.

She reaches out and carefully touches the corner of his eye. Crow’s feet have started to work their way onto his face. They’re getting old. “It’s the couple that’s fighting because he wants kids and she doesn’t want to carry any kids but doesn’t want to say that. It would probably be easier if I just told them to adopt and threw them out the window.”

“Yes dear,” he repeats, sparks flying. A few land on her, but she doesn’t burn. Of course.

She moves her hand up and pushes it through his hair and resists the urge to pull him from his work and abandon her own so they can make out on his worktable. “I love you.”

Aphrodite turns to leave, but Hephaestus grabs her wrist and pulls her back. He holds up a single copper lily, the edges of the petals still glowing with heat it had taken to shape them. He carefully slides the stem into her hair so it sits at the base of her bun. He grazes her bottom lip with his thumb as he pulls his hand back to his side. “Yes dear.”

~

Demeter rages.

She makes imprudent deals to control an earth that no longer falls under her domain, and she enacts her revenge against the mortals in whatever way she can. They have forgotten her, forgotten the earth, and in their ignorance they seek to destroy it.

She shakes the bedrock and splits it open, but still they do not learn, and as the temperature of the earth rises so does her temper.

The sea is not hers to command, her power is of earth and of earth alone, and even now she gave more than could afford to lose to keep her grasp on it. But these mortals do not learn.

Demeter goes to the sea and makes an inadvisable bargain. She goes to the crumbling remains of Olympus and makes an even worse one.

Typhoons and hurricanes whip across the land. If they seek to destroy her, she will simply destroy them first.

~

Hera sits on a pure white couch in an elegant mansion, smiling for the journalist seated across from her.

“What do you think is the most influential decision you ever made?” he asks, “If you could pinpoint the success of your business to one moment, what would it be?”

She tilts her head as the light of the camera flashes. “Why, divorcing my husband, of course.”

“Would that be your advice to young women hoping to be as successful as you?” he asks, “To not get married?”

Hera thinks of thousands of years by Zeus’s side, and how little it got her. She thinks of Hestia’s men, and Artemis’s women, of Hephaestus’s love for Aphrodite, of the way Hades softened the sharpest of Persephone’s edges.

She says, “Do not get married to someone who makes you less than you are. If you are not a better person for being together than apart, then do not be together. It’s as simple as that.”

Simple, but not easy.

Leaving Zeus was the hardest thing she’s ever done.

~

Persephone isn’t forced to spend half the year on the mortal earth anymore. She goes when she pleases, which isn’t often.

Sometimes she’ll sit by Artemis’s side while she brings a new life into the world and holds the warm, wriggly child first. She visits hospitals and makes the flowers bloom out of season, and spends long hours sitting under the sun and feeling it’s warmth touch her face.

Hades left his realm rarely before, and even more rarely now. More people are being born than ever, meaning more people are dying than ever. Their realm is massive, comprising of all the dead of several millennia. Hades and Hecate spend their days as always – desperately trying to expand the realm so that they don’t all have to live on top of each other.

“Have you heard?” she asks one day, seated on his desk and leaning across it so he can’t work on the latest draft for another level of their realm. “The gods are dead.”

He gives up on attempting to tug it out from underneath her. “Are they? That’s odd, none of them are here.”

Persephone doesn’t bother to hide her smile. They haven’t figured it out yet. Maybe they never will. But when death comes for them, as death does for all, it will be to Hades and Persephone’s door they are brought. Hades himself will usher Gaia and Amphitrite into the underworld, when the time comes.

That time is not today.

“Darling, I really do need to work on this,” he ineffectually tugs on the map again.

She pushes him back into the chair, climbing on top of him and pressing their foreheads together. “No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t,” he agrees, and obligingly moves his head so Persephone can nibble at his neck. He manages a whole thirty seconds before going, “I mean, I really do, Hecate said if I didn’t have a plan by the time she leaves for the mortal realm tomorrow, I’ll either have to wait until she gets back or do it by myself, and I’d really prefer to do neither–”

Persephone kisses him to shut him up, twisting and pushing them through the realm so they land on their bed. “I’ll help you finish it later. Focus on me now.”

Hades doesn’t answer, but he does flip them so he’s above her and reaches below her skirt, so she’ll take that as agreement.

~

Hestia sits around a bonfire, watching a group of teenagers get drunk and dance around the flames. They’ll never be younger than right now, never feel as much love for each other as they do right now.

She is besides an old man who warms his hands from the fire coming from an abandoned trash can.

She lies on a bed as a girl lights two dozen candles around it as a surprise for when her lover gets home.

She watches a young man make dinner for his boyfriend for the first time and burn the chicken on both sides. They eat it together anyway.

She sits on the kitchen counter when a sister takes out a pie from the oven, made special for her little brother’s birthday.

She is there when a father ticks the thermostat up high in freezing dawn of morning so it will be warm by the time his wife and children awaken.

Most people don’t have hearths anymore. But there is warmth, and love, and for Hestia that is enough.

~

As their names fade from existence, as his name is called less and less on the battlefields of mortal men, the more Ares sleeps.

He falls asleep in too tall trees and on park benches. He sleeps in seedy motel rooms and naps in every one of Athena’s libraries. He sleeps curled up on a chair in Aphrodite’s office, and on the floors of a lot of veteran resource centers. As fast as he can tell, that’s the most they help any veteran.

Still, his favorite place to sleep is the underworld.

He goes knocking on Orpheus’s door, who is always willing to play for him. “Hades is here,” Eurydice says, “Would you like to me to go get him?”

He shakes his head, “Persephone is home. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Eurydice and Orpheus share the same look of faint disapproval, but neither of the say anything, for which he is grateful.

He lies in the soft grass of the garden Persephone made, and lets Orpheus’s playing lull him to sleep.

Later, he’s woken by strong arms picking him up and holding him against a familiar chest. He doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know who’s holding him. “I can go,” he yawns, his actions at odds with his words as he pulls himself even closer the warmth coming off the king of the underworld.

“No,” Hades says. “Stay.”

Ares lets out a content sigh as Hades presses his lips to his forehead, and he’s not great about touch, about people laying their hands on him and getting in his space. But Hades has always felt safe, felt like home.

He stays.

~

The gods are dead.

Long live the gods.


gods and monster series, part xiv

read more of the gods and monsters series here

This is something I hope all of my followers and the entire studyblr community will read…

Last year was the hardest year of my life and I did not even notice it until I was out of it. To give a little background, I was 19, and becoming a college senior. I completed my bachelor’s degree with a double major, summa cum laude. I worked two jobs, one retail, one as a tour guide, five days a week, and took seven classes in the fall, and eight in the spring, and six in the summer. By March I had lost 16 pounds, was not eating, not sleeping, and drinking four or more cups of coffee a day. I had a boyfriend, friends, a roommate, I was president of a club, vice president of another, and working as vice president of one club’s international leadership program as one of five student board members across sixty-three countries. I studied for my LSAT, took the exam, and applied to law school. And in August, I will be the youngest person in my law school.

I pushed myself harder and further than I ever imagined, and though I sometimes (often) felt like it, I never cracked, gave up, or even collapsed. I did not always take care of myself, physically, mentally, or emotionally though, and I failed myself there, but I was so driven, so determined, that none of that mattered to me at that moment. I do not regret that or any of the choices I have made, but I pressured myself more than anyone ever has, and more than I ever have. I accomplished unbelievable things, but at an insane cost - my health.

Often in this community I receive messages, and see posts, encouraging you to never give up, and to always push yourself to get that A, pass that test, graduate, or to overcome whatever academic or otherwise challenges you are facing. Almost daily I receive messages asking how I do it. “How did you graduate at 20?”, “How do you keep up with all of your commitments?”, and even, “You are so amazing, I could never do it like you do”. But I am here to tell you well, it is not pretty. I went days without eating a meal at times. Days without washing my hair, of wearing the same torn leggings and a hoodie because a grade meant more to me than I meant to myself. I got walking pneumonia at the end of the spring term because I had pushed myself too hard and spent weeks telling myself I could not afford to be sick today, tomorrow, or the next day. I wore myself down so much that I had a doctor literally tell me that now at 20 years old, if I do not tone down the stress and pressure I subject myself to, that I could give myself a stroke. A stroke, 20 years old!

Being a perfectionist, and being so overwhelmingly addicted to my studies, is not glamorous.

I am making this post not to brag about my accomplishments, but because I receive messages daily idolizing me and what I have done. I want everyone to know that this is not easy. Having a dream is hard work, and I have been unfairly hard on myself. Just because you do not see someone’s cracks and scars, does not mean they are not there. I have worked hard, and have earned these things, but I have made sacrifices I would hate to see anyone else make.

In 10 days I move across the country to start law school, and I am terrified that I will allow myself to do this all over again. I am not afraid of the move, or of law school, but of myself and how I talk to myself and treat myself, and the amount of stress and pressure I am willing to apply to myself, without hesitation. In a month I have law school orientation, and have set up a meeting with one of the school’s onsite trauma therapists. I refuse to let myself be my own greatest roadblock. I have to learn to love myself. It is not fair to your body and mind to put grades above yourself. I now full heartedly believe that a grade is not worth your health. I will no longer break my back bending over backwards for an A+. I will no longer let myself go days without food and rest because I want this essay to be perfect, or my presentation to go as planned, second by second. I will allow myself to be happy, well rested, well fed, and healthy. I will love myself, and this is a promise I am making to myself and to all of you, and a promise I hope you all can make to yourselves as well.

I promise.

TLDR; Be dedicated, and determined to get what you want, but do not sacrifice your health, mental, physical, or emotional, for a grade, a diploma, a degree… You are worth so much more than a letter on a piece of paper, and it is okay to sometimes need to hear that. I know I did.

are you familiar with the feeling of oh-my-holy-moly-my-life-is-a-complete-mess? me too fam. but now, it’s time for change. It’s time to get our shit together and here are some tips to get started.

note : this is just a beginning guide; which only includes 1/100 of the tips to get you life together. I’ll probably make a part two if this is helpful?


1. do not procrastinate.

sounds crazy? but honestly, just don’t. procrastination leads to stress and anxiety and helps you lose your shit.

but, how do we not procrastinate?

  • ‌get things done early. remember that sheet of paper your professor gave around in class having the list of all the assignments to be done that semester? yes, do that work months before if you have time.
  • do your homework the day it’s given. (no watching tv before you do)
  • ‌study in the time you’re actually studying. don’t go on your phone half the time. If you’re doing that, you may as well put your books away.

‌other resources -

2. become the master of  “fake productivity”

fake productivity is basically when you do mechanical work (i.e. stuff which doesn’t require much brainpower) to get into the real “productivity” zone. it helps you brain prepare for the big task ahead. here are some things to do -

  • make your bed
  • do the dishes/laundry
  • clean your room (i know it’s messy yo)
  • get your closet together
  • empty your inbox (be it gmail or tumblr)
  • do a smol workout?
  • make a to-do list/ organize you calendar
  • do a easiest or the most enjoyable task off your to-do list

3. plan, plan and plan

your planner/bullet journal should be your best friend. plan those essays you got to write, that research paper you have to do, down to the time you need to go out for dinner with friends. Plan. Every. Single. Thing. I. Really. Mean. It.

+ and follow up with those plans!! you have already wasted a lot of time on planning, you hAVE to follow up with that planning, right?

4. wake up early

why?  waking up early gives you the time to do things slowly and carefully so that you get it perfect in one go and your life isn’t a complete disastrous mess.

how to wake up early? i got you.

5. have a healthy lifestyle

an example -

x wakes up at 7 am every morning, goes for a short run to wake herself up and comes back to have hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, slices of bread and a mug of steaming hot tea. she starts on her work after that, doing it without stressing about it. Then, after a nice hot bath and a delicious lunch, she goes out to a cafe to work on her online classes and to hang out with her friends. coming back home, she does a quick workout, takes a shower and heads off to make dinner. Having an early dinner, she spends the remaining few hours relaxing, drafting blog posts and spending time with her dog. at 10 pm everyday, she heads off to her bed, looking forward to a glorious tomorrow.

..sounds like a fairy-tale, right? you can definitely live it though.

In general, your day should have the following stuff  -

  • ‌sufficient hours of work using which you can get all your work done
  • ‌a healthy breakfast, lunch and dinner (yep, no skipping meals)
  • ‌a workout, generally of 15 - 30 minutes at the least
  • ‌interaction with people, like hanging out with friends or family
  • ‌sufficient sleep and resting time (preferably 8 hours of sleep)
  • ‌a fixed routine consisting of you waking and sleeping at fixed time
  • ‌a ‘me’ time at some point of the day where you don’t worry about work or anything and focus on relaxing after a long day.

6. believing that coffee sucks

why? its basically a drug and if you need three cups of it just to get started on work, you’re going to have a really hard time during finals.

Instead, get enough sleep so that you have enough energy to study without being a coffee addict. or you can even swap coffee for water. (hey, you’ll be more hydrated!)
side note - a cup of coffee per day is okay though. I love coffee too and I totally feel you but don’t overdose on it, okay love?

some extra things to know about -

  • ‌have a companion to keep you accountable at the start.
  • ‌do have a laid-back day once in a while, you’re human after all.
  • balance work and play. reward yourself for shit done.
  • keep track of your spending, earnings, investments, etc.
  • stop being a perfectionist. seriously, you dont need to rewrite all those notes, trust me (comes from a was-a-perfectionist-kind-of-still-am-but-trying-not-to-be perfectionist)
  • ‌don’t stress yourself out. getting your shit together is a journey and not a result.
  • remember, change will come. yes, it will; but only if you take action. start now.

also, on a side note - and this might seem very ironic, but sometimes you don’t have to have your shit together. life is always a mess and trust me when I say this, no one - yes no one - has their shit together and sometimes it’s worth it to lead a messy life and enjoy it without having any fixed rules and regulations like you would have if you wanted that perfect life. enjoy the life you lead and stay wonderful, loves!


- ̗̀   the adulting 101 series   ̖́-        

part one : kicking a rut

go check out my other masterposts here and you can always send in a request for a masterpost as my ask box is always open!!

much love, Taylor  (´。• ᵕ •。`) ♡

deal | pt 1 (m)

Originally posted by sugamysavagebaby

summary: the years spent working hard had really paid off and was it so wrong to want to rub that in a few faces? The cliché mean girls that often teased you for not doing anything with your hair or clothing, wouldn’t it be great to show off someone like Jungkook? High school reunion au + ceo!jeon

word count: 6,366 

part two | part three 


Eyes like ice, cold and calculating narrow over the rim of a wine glass. Soft lips press to the polished glass, the crimson complimenting tan skin. If it weren’t for the soft dent between his brows you would have assumed he had not heard you. He takes his time allowing the wine to caress his palate, eyes closed as he savors the taste.  As always, he makes you wait until the wine glass is drained of it’s dark contents. You ponder on the taste, if it is bitter upon his tongue much like his words.

Keep reading

⇁ nudes, not flowers | 01

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

pairing⇀Hoseok x reader x Jungkook

genre⇀smut || fuckboi!au

warnings⇀public sex, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, dirty talk, dom!junghope, demeaning names during sex if you aren’t into that, jealousy

word count⇀5.5k

You’re not supposed to fall for Jung Hoseok and his repertoire of awful pick-up lines—but you do. The problem is: he’s afraid of commitment, and bolts at the idea of settling down. After that, you decide to stay far away from fuckboys, but his friend decides to test your new found resolutions.

or : Jungkook wants to see how far he can push Hoseok until he snaps 

⇁  01 | 02

Keep reading

After Hours [m]

pairing: reader x Yoongi

Genre: tattoed!yoongi, rapper!tyoongi, angst? fluff? smut, idk how to label this haha

word count: 16,212

warnings: graphic sexual content, alcohol, language

a/n: this is loosely based of Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist. i am v nervous about this as it isn’t the usual angst fueled plot I normally write. so if it’s crap, please be kind haha. i’m tagging the lovely @dimplecoups​ because i know you’ve been waiting for this. and @2seoke for always being the best babe.

Originally posted by lethargicmin

You looked in the mirror, making sure your face mask was properly in place. If you were going to look like a serial killer for the next 20 minutes, you at least wanted to look the part. Your bed was calling your name as you walked over to the soft mattress, choosing to ignore the missed calls and text messages from your best friend. This was the first Saturday night you had to yourself in months. No work. No brother. No best friend. You were free to do whatever you wanted.

Or at least that’s what you had originally intended. But as the door to your bedroom crashed open you soon realized that the night had other plans for you.

“Why haven’t you answered my calls?” your best friend Irene squealed as she plopped down at the foot of your bed. “It’s Saturday night and I know you don’t have to work tomorrow!”

You gave her a look. Well, you tried to give her a look to the best of your ability as the motions of your face was restricted by the sheet mask on top of it. “There’s a reason why I didn’t answer your calls. And just because my idiot brother gave you a key to our apartment doesn’t mean you can just waltz in here any time you want.”

Irene rolled her eyes, blowing a large bubble from the gum she was constantly chewing. She was clearly not amused at your disinterest on leaving your apartment tonight. You reached forward, popping it with your pointer finger. “You’re no fun, Y/N” she whined, collecting the gum back into her mouth.

“I can’t have fun when I’m always too busy taking care of you.” you quipped, reminding her of the last time the two of you went out. “I had to beg that cop not to give you a ticket for being drunk in public. Why aren’t you bothering my brother? I’m sure he would love to see you.”

Keep reading

Lana Del Rey says Donald Trump helped shape her album ‘Lust For Life’ — and the world needs feminism more than ever.
The singer has returned to the world of music with her fourth studio album in five years.

By Jacqui Swift for The Sun (UK).

LANA DEL REY’s latest album glitters with an all-star cast.
On ‘Lust For Life,’ her most impressive album yet, Lana teams up with heavyweights such as The Weeknd, Stevie Nicks, Sean Ono Lennon and A$AP Rocky.

They are the first collaborations in her career so far, which spans five studio albums, including four in the past five years — an impressive work rate for the Los Angeles-based star.

Keep reading

AMERICAN GODS SENTENCE STARTERS

episode one - the bone orchard. ( contains violence and nsfw themes )

  • ❝ no expertise can surmount a sea that does not wish you to reach shore. ❞
  • ❝ wind can be reasoned with. ❞
  • ❝ celebration was cut short. ❞
  • ❝ only good thing about being in prison is the relief. ❞
  • ❝ tomorrow can’t do anything today hasn’t already managed. ❞
  • ❝ this country went to hell when they stopped hanging folks. ❞
  • ❝ no gallows dirt, no gallows deals. ❞
  • ❝ you know, i’m not superstitious. ❞
  • ❝ i don’t believe in anything i can’t see. ❞
  • ❝ i feel like there’s a fuckin’ axe hanging over my head. i can’t see it, but i believe it. ❞
  • ❝ i can see it fine. ❞
  • ❝ prison has a way of trying to keep you in prison. ❞
  • ❝ i smell snow. ❞
  • ❝ i love you. something feels weird. ❞
  • ❝ i love you too. what feels weird? ❞
  • ❝ the air feels constipated, like if it’d just push out a storm, it’d be okay. ❞
  • ❝ a hundred twenty hours till you’re home. ❞
  • ❝ waiting for the sky to fall is gonna cause more bother than the sky actually falling. which it isn’t. ❞
  • ❝ do not piss off those bitches in airports. ❞
  • ❝ i guess this must be your lucky day, huh ?
  • ❝ you nervous ?
  • ❝ just sit back and be a bird. ❞
  • ❝ i offer you the worm from my beak and you look at me like i fucked your mom
  • ❝ you’re just the first person i’ve met who isn’t an asshole. ❞
  • ❝ give me time. ❞
  • ❝ what would you have done, my boy
  • ❝ seems like a firm decision made for good reasons, i can respect that. ❞
  • ❝ you lost something vital in there, and not just time. ❞
  • ❝ what might i call you, if i were so inclined
  • ❝ always good to meet a fellow traveler. ❞
  • ❝ i usually end up getting what i want. on average, over time. ❞
  • ❝ it’s all about getting people to believe in you. it’s not their cash, it’s their faith. ❞
  • ❝ now, what’s keeping us aloft ? faith ? or newton ?
  • ❝ don’t rush into this, take your time. ❞
  • ❝ there’s always work for a big guy who’s smart enough to know he’s better off letting people think he’s dumb. ❞
  • ❝ by the end of your tenure, you could be the next king of america. ❞
  • ❝ a man gets out of prison, he should be focused above all on not going back. ❞
  • ❝ believe. ❞
  • ❝ i don’t think i have the talent for it. ❞
  • ❝ you … like me
  • ❝ i’m not what i once was. ❞
  • ❝ you’re perfect. ❞
  • ❝ i don’t know what i’m doing. ❞
  • ❝ what man does ?
  • ❝ do something for me. worship me. ❞
  • ❝ worship me. pray to me like i’m your god. your goddess. ❞
  • ❝ you feel so good. i could keep fucking you forever. ❞
  • ❝ say my name. ❞
  • ❝ beloved, i worship your breasts and your eyes and your cunt. and i worship your thighs and your eyes and your cherry red lips. ❞
  • ❝ i am yours, my beloved. ❞
  • ❝ go on, let go ! give me everything !
  • ❝ i love you. ❞
  • ❝ not that rushing into things can’t be a good thing … ❞
  • ❝ sex rushed into tends to work out best for all involved. ❞
  • ❝ okay, i’ve said ‘fuck off’ politely as many ways as i’m gonna. now i’m fixing to be direct. ❞
  • ❝ what the fuck do you know about [ ] ?
  • ❝ more than you, it seems. ❞
  • ❝ i’m not gonna work for anyone who’s got worse luck than me. ❞
  • ❝ call it. ❞
  • ❝ rigged games are the easiest to beat. ❞
  • ❝ you’re a little creepy, and you’re forward, and familiar, and i don’t like it. i don’t like you. ❞
  • ❝ who’re you ?
  • ❝ i’m a leprechaun. ❞
  • ❝ we don’t come from moscow, russia. or moscow, idaho, for that matter. ❞
  • ❝ no details. ❞
  • ❝ devil’s in the details. ❞
  • ❝ do you know who he is ? who he really is
  • ❝ he’s hustling you. he’s a hustler. ❞
  • ❝ damn right. i’m a hustler, swindler, cheater, and liar. it’s why i need assistance. ❞
  • ❝ name your price. ❞
  • ❝ how’d you do it ?
  • ❝ with panache. ❞
  • ❝ simplest trick in the world. ❞
  • ❝ i’ll fight you for it. ❞
  • ❝ win or lose, and you will lose, it’s yours if you fight me. ❞
  • ❝ can you feel the joy rising in your veins like the sap in the springtime ?
  • ❝ i wanted to be a part of your history. ❞
  • ❝ it’s just anger ––– makes you feel like you can change the outcome. ❞
  • [] had the nerve to ask me what i wanted him to do with it. i told him leave it where it found it. ❞
  • ❝ target would be more interesting than here. ❞
  • ❝ if there isn’t some kinda life after death, i’m gonna be so fuckin’ pissed. ❞
  • ❝ there is no closure from the dead. ❞
  • ❝ i’m sorry for your loss, [] , i really am. anyone tell you that yet ? anyone even hug you ?
  • ❝ hear me out, this is a good one. lex talionis. an eye for an eye. a blowjob for a blowjob. ❞
  • ❝ jesus, who knew i could be so angry ?! 
  • ❝ i am trying to get my dignity back here
  • ❝ don’t fuck with me, [
  • ❝ what’s he doing here ? what’s the plan ? what’s the game plan, man ? ❞
  • ❝ how auspicious, you must be special. ❞
  • [ ] is history. forgotten and … old. ❞
  • ❝ we have reprogrammed reality. language is a virus. religion, an operating system, and prayers are just so much fucking spam. ❞
  • ❝ the dominant fucking paradigm, [] , that is the only important thing. ❞
  • ❝ by the way, i was sorry to hear about your wife/husband. tough break. ❞
  • ❝ so, i will ask again: what is it [ ] is up to ? ❞
  • ❝ you saying you don’t know ? … would you tell me even if you did ?
All Leading Up to This

Our Tiefling Bard is known for doing things unconventionally. Be it the reason we are in combat or the reason we got out. Be it teaching goblins the language of music. Be it tackling literally every big bad and SOMEHOW succeeding in pinning each one to the ground. Be it for stopping a Beholder in its tracks with a bottle of Gut-Buster tossed into its gaping maw.

She has a plan for everything, but we never really knew how far until recently.

So backstory: Our Bard and Cleric were honorary members of a guild that was known for being very lawful because they had saved one of its members from certain doom. But, in a heroic display of vigilantism with their other party members against a power-hungry lord our Bard had a personal vendetta against, they had ruined a sting operation set up by this guild that had been years in the making. Now they just had one night to take this lord down before he fled the city at a very public party for his son. 

DM as Guild Leader: “I should strip the two of you of your titles for this. We were so close to exposing him for the cruelty he has inflicted on the people of this city but in ONE NIGHT YOU MANAGED TO RUIN ALL OF IT!”

Bard: “And how did we ruin anything? We cleared out that bastard’s group of ruffians and we even took some alive to confess!”

Guild Leader: “Ha! This is a lord we are talking about. He throws money at the guards and those confessions become desperate lies to avoid the gallows. And besides, by tomorrow he and his family will have left the town until this blows over.”

Cleric: “So we get him tonight.”

Guild Master: “Not possible. They are hosting a public party for his son tonight. Invitation only. Not only that, but your shenanigans today have likely doubled the guard.”

Ranger: “So what we need is stealth.”

Bard: “No… What we need are more shenanigans.”

The party goes back to the bakery in town our bard had purchased some time ago for extra coin. She had even taken points into the Cook profession to increase profits. Once there, she uses the Clothier’s Closet spell and creates some clothes from a diamond she had. One is a noble outfit for herself and the rest are cook’s outfits.

She and her workers manage to create a very large cake with a hollow middle. The ranger and cleric got inside the cake, dressed as cooks and holding the gear we would need. Our Bard posed as the boss and our Elven Dragon Shaman (Who had maxed out Intimidation) would be her assistant.

The plan would be our Bard would pose as the owner of a fledgling service that delivered dancing women in cakes hired by either the lord or by a friend of his son. Upon encountering the guard at the gate, she managed to play her part well, insisting that she accompany the cake inside so that “someone doesn’t take a fancy to these bimbos and I lose profits for nine months.” Miraculously, they make it inside and are left alone in a room.

Dragon Shaman: “I can’t believe that worked.”

Bard: “Why wouldn’t it? Best kind of stealth is going in like you are supposed to be there.”

The Bard changes into her Noble outfit to infiltrate the guests and the Ranger notices something.

Ranger: “Wait a minute. You made enough cook’s outfits for everyone.”

Bard: “I did.”

Ranger: “So then why did we have to pretend to be strippers inside a cake?!”

The Bard sighs and says: “Look. I did not just spend about 120 gold setting this up to NOT see two beautiful women emerge from a giant cake!”

DM: “You know what *Bard’s Name*? Go ahead and gain 100XP for this. All of this. Just… How long have you been planning this?”

The Bard OOC: “Since I bought the bakery.”

This was 8 months ago.

27 Dress Code Violations

@jilychallenge 04/2017 | @bantasticbeasts vs @anxiouspotter

Muggle AUs | “i get dress coded so you give me your jacket and we protest unfair regulations for girls together/you sass the teacher about how distracted you are by my shoulders”

Word Count: 2500

special shoutout to @jiilys. solidarity, sister

AO3


i.

She walks into English fifteen minutes late, wearing both a deeply unflattering smock and a scowl. Neither are an especially new look on her.

“Vector,” she says under her breath, as an answer to Mary McDonald’s unspoken question. It’s the answer to every question in the room. Ms Vector is notorious among them all for her very strict adherence to the school’s dress code.

“Yes, Miss Evans’ entrance was very exciting, but I’ll have your attention back to the lesson now, please,” says Ms McGonagall. James snaps back to attention. It’s for the best.

ii.

“Here,” James says, shrugging off his jacket and thrusting it toward Lily. She gives him this look like, fuck off, and James has to bite his tongue to stop from aggravating her. “They’re doing uniform checks up the hall. Just put it on.”

Evans gives him a very strange look, and it takes him a second to realise that it’s neutral.

She looks good in his jacket.

iii. 

Every third dress code violation results in a lunch time detention. It’s only October, and Lily’s already had six. She doesn’t look at James as she takes the seat three ahead and one to the left of him.

iv.

There’s a thump from somewhere in the back of the classroom, and McGonagall isn’t planning on looking up - it sounds like it came from the general vicinity of Potter and Black, and that’s certainly not a situation she wants to engage with - but the entire class is already turned around to see what the fuss is.

She strides down the aisle between the desks, and is about three years past surprised to find James Potter lying on the floor, gazing at the ceiling, glasses knocked aside.

“Am I boring you so much that you decided to take a nap?” she asks, and James gives this wicked smile, and here we go–

“Sorry, Miss, I can’t get up. It’s Evans’ shoulders - they’re overwhelming me. I simply can’t do anything until she covers them up. Sirius, tell me when it’s safe.”

He’s a funny boy, she’ll give him that. “Potter, get up. This is hardly the time for foolishness.”

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La Dolce Vita.

Genre: Smut. And some fluff too. 

Summary: When your best friend decides to screw you over with the werewolf boy you absolutely hate during your heat~ 

Pairing: Reader [Werewolf AU!] x Jeon fucking Jungkook [Werewolf AU!]

Word Count: 6.9k-ish

Dedicated to my sweet strawberry jelly, @nomoreghostie-anon, Happy Birthday, sunshine!! I hope you like this trash writing of mine ahahah :) 

Also tagging @writeiolite who read this like a billion months ago and loved it, your encouragement always makes me beyond happy!!

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

“Unnie,” you whined, tugging on the end of Jiyoon’s dress, “Don’t go!”

Your heat was supposed to start in a few days and initially you had planned to chain yourself in your room and let her take care of you through it. However her unexpected business trip ruined all your plans. She sighed, turning around to look at you in a mix of understanding and seriousness as she sat you by the edge of the bed.

“Look, ___ I don’t have a choice. If I don’t attend this meeting, they’ll fire me.” She groaned, rubbing the sides of your arm, “But it’ll be okay, you’ve been through this before.”

“Yeah, but I had a boyfriend to help me out then,” you whined, looking at her with pleading eyes. “This is the first time I’ll have to go through it alone.”

“Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” your eyebrows quirked up at her words and you looked at her in curiosity, urging her to go on. “Look, there are other werewolves in my boyfriend’s pack, you know they can help you.”

You groaned in annoyance, knowing full well about Hoseok’s pack and the members, not forgetting to mention their weird habits, but there was no way you were going to let any of them get close to you, especially not Jungkook. Not when you were in heat.

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Little Jealous There, Sarge?

{Part Two}

Summary: There’s nothing wrong with not being the most experienced person in the bedroom. In fact, some people find it rather attractive, particularly James Buchanan Barnes. Although you express how much you want him, Bucky remains distant; he doesn’t want to do anything to hurt you. So what do you do? You elicit Sam’s help.

Warnings: jealous!Bucky x inexperienced!Reader, fluff, smut, biting kink

A/N: Inspired after spending some quality time with @mermanbuckybarnes and learning just how jealous Bucky can get.

Originally posted by stuckwithbuck


Bucky’s hands remained firmly on his lap, his eyes glued to the television screen. Black Swan was on and Bucky was entranced by the symbolism, striking colors, phenomenal acting, and the now on screen sex scene between Mila Kunis and Natalie Portman.

Your eyes raked over his body. His breathing had visibly increased, a sheen of sweat beginning to form on his skin, his hands moving ever-so-slightly to cover the growing erection in his pants; his tongue darting out to lick his lips, pulling in his bottom lip and dragging it between his teeth to quiet a moan. His eyes met yours when he felt your attention on him.

“You’re missing the movie, doll.” His voice had dropped an octave.

“Oh, you’re much more interesting than the movie, trust me.” You nibbled on your bottom lip contemplating whether or not to act on your lustful thoughts. 

You took a deep breath and reached for the remote, pausing the movie. You tossed it across the room before Bucky could grab it, shifting your position and climbing on top of his lap. His hands found your hips as you started grinding yourself against him; he worked you into an even rhythm.

“What’re you doing?” He whispered in your ear as you trailed kisses up his neck.

“You.” You tangled your fingers in his hair and yanked on the strands. “Fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk tomorrow, Sarge.”

“(Y/N)…” Bucky’s grip tightened on your hips.

“Oh, fuck!” Your clit was getting the attention it needed. “P-Please, Buck.”

“I…” Bucky sighed and stopped his movements, bringing your own to a halt. “I can’t.” He shook his head and lifted you off his lap. “I, uh, I’ll just see you later, doll.”

You tried to call out after him but he was gone in a flash. You plopped onto your back and groaned loudly, ignoring the ringtone symbolizing Sam blasting from your phone. That’s when the idea hit you and you knew exactly what you had to do. 

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Strip Tutoring // Jeff Atkins // requested

Request : please do a jeff atkins imagine but please dont let him die there iM BEGGIN U

This imagine doesn’t mention his death or the party or anything! Just a regular ‘dating Jeff Atkins’ imagine. Lol

Requests are closed. xx

Warnings : not really smut but… stripping ?…. cheeky!Jeff

Pairings : Jeff x Fem.Reader

Originally posted by jeffreysatkins

Originally posted by ardevaas88


Walking into the library, my eyes scanned over everyone’s faces until I saw my boyfriend sitting with Clay. He looked irritated and pinched the bridge of his nose. Taking a seat at the table, Jeff’s eyes lit up.

“Hey babe.” He smiled. 

I grinned, “How’s he doing, Clay?”

“Depends. Did Abraham Jefferson write the Declaration of Independence?” Clay responded smartly. 

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Douchebag gets it....

So this happened quite a few years ago, and the stage will take some setting. It might be more of a Karma than a Revenge story, but you guys seem to appreciate it when a Douchebag takes it up the ass, so here’s a fine tale…

I was working as a dishwasher in a new Fine Dining restaurant in the downtown of a largish city. Chef Paul came from a rich family with a lot of connections, but he made his own way through culinary school and was both talented and dedicated to his art. His family ponied up the cash for a location right downtown in Office Tower Land, but Chef Paul made the place the “hotspot” for the movers and shakers of the town. Our clientele was the Rolex set, people with a string of initials on their business cards and high-powered job titles.

Chef Paul was the nicest guy you could imagine away from the restaurant, but when he was on the cookline, he was an aggressive and abrupt bully of the old school. It was an open kitchen, meaning you could see it from the dining room, so he never raised his voice, but he could chew you out in a low-volume whisper, all the time with a poker smile frozen on his face. This was his show, his restaurant, his baby, and woe be it to the person who fucked up while Chef Paul had his game face on.

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Say It (Jungkook/Reader)

Originally posted by sugutie

Genre: Smut - Inspired by a fic written by Admin JP + Say It by Tory Lanez.

Words: 7.2K+

Author: Admin Kaycie

Summary: Honesty was a trait you had always prided yourself in being strong in possession of, something your friends and fans all admired you for; so the day you announced you did not like Jeon Jungkook, they knew your words were true.

Tags: Dance room rendezvous, slow and sensual sex against the dance studio mirror wall, etc. 


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You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt: Part 2

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio


Growing up, people told Y/n that you could die from a broken heart—that the stress on your heart strings could weaken, and all that’s left is the pain in your chest.

Y/n thought her heart would fail her, rupture all that’s left of her and leave her body to decompose. She believed that, if her broken heart wasn’t going to kill her, loneliness and lack of sleep would push her towards her end.

Moving on—something that seemed so simple yet so impossible for Y/n to do.

When the hurt in her chest and the hallucinations from exhaustion started to become too much for her to handle, she was willing to do anything to help herself. She started taking up yoga sessions, started writing music, even started cooking in an attempt to bring herself back from whatever hell she was in.

She even considered moving on; meeting a man at a bar and getting to know more about him rather than his drink order. But something seemed so wrong about that—something was unsettled inside of her at the thought of being with someone who wasn’t Harry.

The image of Jessica in Harry and Y/n’s t-shirt was enough to haunt her nearly every hour of the day. She started going mental, constantly wondering what they were doing together in the moments she was most vulnerable. She wondered about their love life, their future, their interests. She thought about everything.

It wasn’t until Gabby was determined to mend the broken girl raiding her house, finding any possible excuse to give her a sense of life again, that Y/n found the slightest bit of hope.

Y/n was losing it, entirely, and Gabby refused to continue being a bystander.

Gabby had set Y/n up on a blind date only a couple weeks back, practically begging her to seize every opportunity she possibly can to get over Harry. It was all Gabby could do to help her, considering nothing quite helped Y/n’s well-being since the breakup.


“Oh, he’s just so perfect!” Gabby squealed, clapping her hands before gripping tightly around Y/n’s wrists in excitement. “He’s gorgeous! Amazing blue eyes—breathtaking, really! And he’s so sweet, Y/n! I haven’t met a single person who’s disliked him and he’s such an amazing photographer! And his teeth! His teeth are marvelous! Do you know how hard it is nowadays to find a man with nice teeth? I mean—“

By then, Y/n had dozed off, and it wasn’t for any personal reason against Gabby; she’s appreciated every bit of hard work to help her through the heartbreak Y/n’s been dealing with nearly half of a year now. It’s just that she wasn’t ready to move on, not that she didn’t want to.

It had been nearly five months, which may seem like such an abundance of time to rid feelings for somebody, but did time really help moving on from someone she’d planned to spend the rest of her life with? It seemed nearly impossible. She could barely see herself looking at other men in a romantic sense, how could she see herself going on a date with somebody? Especially when she was still in love with somebody else?

She was biting the bullet with letting time heal her, but she felt that was the only way. Nothing more could help her. If anything, she believed dating would make it worse, if she were being honest.

But the look of excitement Gabby had at the mere thought of Y/n being happy again was something Y/n found nearly impossible to resist. Besides, she had definitely been overstaying her welcome at Gabby’s house no matter how much Gabby’s tried to deny it and has put so much stress onto her that maybe, just maybe, doing this one favor for all that she’s done for her.

“So, what do you say?”

Y/n blinked harshly when Gabby’s voice drowned out all the scrambled thoughts in her head, shaking her head slightly to regain her understanding of reality.

“What?”

“Monmouth Coffee Shop at noon tomorrow. Dan really wants to meet you, Y/n! Please!”

Y/n’s eyes widened, snapping her head up to meet Gabby’s hopeful eyes.

“The Monmouth?! Are you crazy?! That’s Harry’s favorite coffee shop, you know that! Dan and Harry probably know each other, that’s how much he goes there!”

Gabby’s eyes narrowed as her lips pursed, gaze directing toward the ceiling in thought.

“Harry? Harry who? I don’t remember who that is, never heard that name in my life.”

Her tone reeked with sarcasm, which made Y/n’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. As much as she wished Gabby’s negative remarks about Harry were comedic, there was always something about them that infuriated her. She always supposed it was the instinctual aspect of loving someone so much.

Gabby sighed as she reached her hand up to rub Y/n’s shoulder gently.

“Look,” she began, “you’re my best friend and I hate seeing you like this. You’re not the same Y/n I always knew, and I think you see yourself that way, too. And in all honesty, I don’t give a fuck about Harry anymore. As sadistic and twisted as it sounds, I don’t care about his emotions, or how he feels. He did this to you. He killed a part of you and I feel it’s my obligation to help you through this. So, please, go out with Dan tomorrow. He works at Monmouth, he’ll meet you before his shift starts at 1:30.”

Gabby’s arm slid off of Y/n’s shoulder at the shadow of uncertainty behind her eyes. Even though Gabby understood all the pain and hesitation, she didn’t want to see Y/n suffer another day. She just couldn’t.

“Please,” she whimpered, “Dan has been the only sense of hope I’ve gotten to make you happy again. Just do this one thing, please? And if it doesn’t work, then you can blame me. I’m just trying here.”

Y/n coughed slightly, her inability to say no wearing off of her at Gabby’s desperate pleads. It was an opportunity to turn things back around in her life, and if it didn’t go as planned, she really didn’t have anything more to lose.

She nods her head softly.

“Yeah—yeah, okay. I’ll meet him.”

Maybe this would be good for her.


Dan is lovely, always caring for Y/n and making sure she feels like loyalty whenever she’s around. He puts her first, in everything, and made a rule that the date can’t end until I hear you laugh at least six times.

It’s cute, really, how effortless he is at giving someone so much attention. Y/n likes it—loves it, even, but it still never feels right to her. She sees something with him, but nothing long term, not in the way she sees Harry.

But he’s good for her now, when she’s at her worst and needs someone to be there for her. He’s able to provide her with the company she desperately needs in order to cure the possible fatalities that came with her broken heart.

“Thank you for the coffee, it was great.” Y/n smiles softly, her cheeks blushing slightly as she traces the rim of her coffee cup.

It’s nearly their tenth date, and they still meet at the Monmouth at noon before his shift. It’s become a routine for them, meeting together at noon before Dan drops her off at the parking station. It became something they both looked forward to throughout their week, and soon became more of a tradition between them.

Dan grins, almost instinctively wrapping his arms around Y/n’s shoulders so that her head makes rest on his chest. He sighs, pressing a small kiss to the top of her head before resting his chin where his lips once were.

“Of course. I’ll be getting out at around 6 o‘clock so maybe I can stop by for a few? Maybe watch a movie?”

He knows the answer before she says it—his constant attempts to get closer to her always seeming to fail. There’s always a hesitation, or always an excuse to prevent them from being alone together.

He’s well aware that there are parts of her that need to be fixed, still being completely destructed by her ex-lover. He’s tried tirelessly to get her to open up and to trust him, but there’s a thick barrier still in their way of each other. It disheartens him, to know she refuses to let him in.

She sighs, guilt evident in her breath as she softly pushes away from him.

She does that often, he’s noticed it.

She feels horrible for doing so every time. Everything between them has remained stagnant, nothing being built so that nothing could be knocked down. It’s not that Y/n doesn’t trust him, it’s that Y/n doesn’t trust herself. She’s still in love with someone else, and she can’t hurt Dan—not in that way.

“I think I’m just going to—“

“Yeah, I know.” Dan nods, arms moving to cross at his chest, “I get it. Just like every other time.”

Y/n reaches her shaking fingers to brush her hair behind her ear, guilt flashing in her eyes as she refuses to meet his gaze. She’s familiar with the look he has on his face well enough to know he’s upset again, being constantly shut down by her.

“I’m so sorry, Dan.” She whispers, “But I’m trying. I want to keep trying with you. If you let me.”

He looks unconvinced, as he’s been hearing this for a while now. But something inside of him can’t quit her, no matter how much his intuition tells him she’s a dead end. Maybe he feels sorry for her on a level he’s never felt sorrow for somebody else. No matter how much she hides it, she really does need him. Not in a romantic level, but she does need him to show her that he cares for her and that he’ll always be there. She needs that sense of security, and he’s the only one that can provide it for her.

“Yeah,” he nods, “we can keep trying. It’s okay, I’m here for you.“


Harry had been living in his studio for the past couple of weeks. It certainly wasn’t ideal, but it was much better than sleeping on his and Y/n’s bed—alone.

That’s all he’s felt since their break up—lonely. It’s quite strange, considering Harry had millions of supporters, an entire band throughout his solo career, and producers around him nearly every hour of the day. He used to complain that he never had alone time anymore, that between all the constant traveling and being at the peak of his career, it was hard to find time for himself.

But now, in the midst of everything happening in his life, he wishes to feel that sort of hustle again.

Y/n was the person that kept him grounded through everything. She was the one consistency in his life, which gave him all the more reasons to love her. Whenever he was overwhelmed with the pressure put on him, or feeling homesick during his travels, she was always the one to keep him at bay and give him a sense of clarity.

Home hadn’t become a house, instead, Y/n’s heart. Wherever she was, he felt at home. Even when she was half way across the world, it was her voice that brought him back and reminded him that, no matter how much he missed the walls of familiarity, home was always a phone call away. She gave him that sense of comfort everywhere she went, it was truly amazing.

And when he broke up with Y/n, he didn’t think of how much everything around him would be affected. He thought time would do them best—would help mend the relationship that seemed to be collapsing beneath their feet. Their connections were lost, replaces by uncomfortable silences and unbarring arguments.

He didn’t think of the consequences when he did it. He didn’t think about how lost he’d become, or how he had no place to call home, or how there was no consistency in his life anymore. There were so many aspects of his life that Y/n had given him—so much of them that he didn’t realize until she moved out.

It was the exact reason he started dating Jessica. She was a great distraction, a beautiful woman to take his mind off of everything.

They weren’t much of anything. Nothing about them was exclusive besides what the media saw of them: boyfriend and girlfriend moving in together in London. It was far from the truth, really. He was with her to terminate his dry spell and rid his loneliness, and she was with him because he infatuated her.

He ended it all, though, that same morning Y/n found Jessica wearing their shirt. The entire incident gave him a realization; that nobody could fill his void like Y/n did.

The fear of losing her forever and making her believe he was in love with somebody else was enough to break him out of his selfish ways. She had been waiting for him for months, and when he returned, he wasn’t the same man he was.

Not only did Harry know that Y/n lost all her faith in him—he lost all faith in himself, as well.


“I’m so screwed, Nick. I fucked up everything. Everything.”

Harry was laying with his back flat against the studio couch, hands rubbing down his face as he tried to steady his harsh breathing.

It was just after he had run into Y/n at the grocery store, where she had seen Jessica wearing Harry and Y/n’s t-shirt. Although he was practically mute during the encounter, everything hit him at once after Y/n and Gabby walked out.

He called Nick in a hurry, incoherent and completely disoriented from the tears he’d broken down into. Everything he thought would be mended completely fell down on them—all because of him.

“Jessica was wearing the shirt with the—fuck, you know the shirt, and Y/n saw and she was such a mess, Nick. I didn’t even say anything to her, she was practically begging me to say something and I didn’t say a word.”

Nick sat cross-armed on one of the chairs, directly across from Harry. He wished he could have felt remorse seeing Harry in such distress, however, he never agreed with Harry’s actions and made it clear numerous times. In his eyes, this was karma’s ticking time bomb.

“You tend to be a real jackass sometimes, you know that?”

Harry lifted himself up so that he could sit properly. His body slumped against the back of the couch, head rested in his palm as he coughed uncomfortably at Nick’s choice of words.

“You let go of the best thing that’s ever happened to you and then you just move on, as if she meant nothing, and you think you just fucked it all up now? Over the goddamn t-shirt?”

Harry scowled at him.

“I haven’t moved on, and it’s more than just a t-shirt, you know that. That was ours.” Harry defended, glaring over at his direction.

“So why was Jessica wearing it after you fucked her on the bed you and Y/n shared every night for the past three years?”

Something about Nick’s words gave Harry a foul taste in his mouth. As much as he wished Nick didn’t say it in that way, that’s exactly what Harry did, and knowing he had to live with that for the rest of his life made his stomach flip inside of him.

He really did fuck it up. Nothing he did was excusable, nothing he did was forgivable. He betrayed the one woman he loved so dearly—the one woman he’d always consider his soulmate. He really, really fucked it up.

He gulped as he tried to find words to justify himself. There was really nothing he could say.

“She—she had just put it on while I was sleeping and when—when I noticed she just wouldn’t shut up about breakfast and I couldn’t just be like ‘Hey, Jess, could you take off that shirt? That belonged to me and my ex-girlfriend and I don’t appreciate it?’ How could I do that?”

He sighed, leaning his face into the palm of his hands as he looked back onto his experiences with Jessica. Was it all worth it? Was she really worth all of this?

“She means nothing to me, Nick. I lost the girl I love for somebody who doesn’t mean anything to me.” He whispered, “How do I live knowing that?”


It’s nearly two in the afternoon when Harry finally decides to leave his studio. He’s been working on some songs he found himself writing during his free time, something he found therapeutic throughout the past couple of months.

Recording and writing have become the only distractions that seem to work for Harry. Everything else became temporary. Writing out his emotions and singing the words he wishes he could say has been the only sense of closure he’s had in a while.

“Dan! Long time no see!” Harry smiles when he enters Monmouth, a familiar face being something he finds so relieving.

Dan looks up from his register, reaching over the counter to give Harry a hug as he greets him enthusiastically.

“Haven’t seen you in quite a while. On your lunch break?”

Harry nods as his eyes squint, reaching for the back of his neck as he reads over the menu.

“Yeah, kind of in a hurry today if you don’t mind. Can I just get a medium coffee with almond milk, please? And a slice of apple pie, feeling kind of brisk today.”

Dan works his fingers across the cash register, yelling out his order to the barista before making small talk about the weather. Considering Harry hasn’t been seen in Monmouth nearly as much as he used to, they both found it nice to catch up with each other for the short while they’ve been distanced.

When Dan reaches over to give Harry his spare change, an all too familiar silver ring catches his attention immediately. At first glance, he swears his heart stopped beating.

There’s no way, there’s just no way that could be the ring Harry gave to Y/n. Dan and Y/n have never met before, considering she had only visited here a handful of times during Harry’s lunch break. And even then, she would just stand patiently by the door while Harry waited to retrieve his order.

There’s just no way, but the top of the rose has a particular rust on it that resembles Harry’s perfectly—and no matter how long it’s been since he’s seen it, he’ll never forget what it looks like.

Harry’s hand grips onto Dan’s wrist instead of reaching out to grab the spare change laying upon his palm, flipping over his hand to inspect the silver ring snug almost too perfectly around his finger. He’s aggressive, movements harsh and face tight with anger, but at this point in time, the last thing Harry’s worried about is Dan’s slightly intimidated composure.

“Where did you get this?”

Unlike his demeanor, his voice is soft and breaking between each word. There’s an unrecognizable shift in his eyes when he sees the wear and tear Harry knows he caused before gifting it to Y/n. This is most definitely his, and knowing Y/n was the one who gave it to him makes him nearly throw up all the contents in his stomach.

“Girlfriend gave it to me,” Dan smiles “well, not really my girlfriend yet. But you know how they are. I told her I liked it and she insisted I have it.”

Harry swallows the lump in his throat, making him nearly whimper when he opens his mouth to speak.

He’s never felt so much pain before. The breaking that was once only in his heart spread like wildfire across every bone and ligament in his body. It burns, the sudden realization that Y/n has a boyfriend, that Y/n is no longer going to be there—waiting for him—the way he always expected her to be, that Y/n has taken it upon herself to seek revenge on him so that he can feel everything she felt that one Sunday morning at the grocery store.

And it’s then he realizes that this is nothing compared to everything he’s put her through. In his favor, this is just a stupid ring her gave her for her birthday because he loved the way she twisted it around his finger. It didn’t have much value between them, just something small they shared. He couldn’t imagine the hurt he would have now, standing her, if Dan were wearing their Lover t-shirt.

“Wh—What’s her name?”

His voice is in a whisper now, only the slightest bit of hope draining from his body when he hears Dan speak again.

“Y/n. She’s a good girl, you’d like her.”

Harry almost laughs. You’d like her. He has no idea, he’s in love with her.

It’s as if every part of Harry’s body begins to shut down. Maybe it’s from the shock, or the overbearing pain he feels in his chest, but he suddenly begins to feel lightheaded. His muscles turn numb and all his orientation seems to scramble as if he’s intoxicated.

Dan’s eyes narrow when he sees all the color drain from his face, his eyes widened and soaked with tears. He watches as he nearly falls backward, only to balance himself with his foot when he takes a proper step away from the counter.

“Harry? Harry, you alright?”

Never fucking say my name again is the first proper thought that his brain can register. But his throat is tight and his tongue is numb. He attempts to take a breath of air, but he feels like his lungs are collapsing in his chest, preventing him from doing anything besides stumble uncoordinatedly out of the Monmouth doors.

He’s falling apart—that’s exactly what it feels like. He feels like every limb is falling from his body as he walks towards his car. He doesn’t know exactly how he’s moving, even if he’s stumbling on his own two feet and colliding into stranger’s bodies as he does so, he doesn’t understand how his body finds the strength to keep moving.

Y/n moved on. Y/n’s dating Dan. Y/n gave his ring to him. It’s all over, everything is over.

“No” he mumbles frantically, jealously flowing in his veins, chest heaving from the sobs that are threatening to spill out of him, “no, no no no.”

He starts to wonder where he’s missed it, and exactly how long it’s been since Y/n moved on. She was so broken at the grocery store the other week; what could have possibly altered her feelings that quickly? Did Dan really impact her that much?

But that’s his girl. Y/n is his girl, she’s the one he was so sure he was going to spend the rest of his life with. Even with Jessica, even with everything that’s happened, Y/n is his soulmate, and there isn’t anything in the world that can convince him otherwise.

Nobody is going to take her from him. He refuses to believe she belongs to somebody that isn’t him; there isn’t an atom in his body that doubts their companionship.

Before he thinks twice—before he really gives himself a chance to stop himself—Harry slides his cell phone out of his back pocket once he reaches his car. He slumps against the hood as his fingers work furiously across his screen.

There has to be something, at least some sort of proof that this is really happening to him, that this isn’t in a nightmare he can easily wake himself out of. There had to have been a hint, a warning for him to have. She would have never moved on without saying something to him. They were so strong together, she would have never left without closure.

Nothing about it makes sense.

And then, he sees it.

He falls to his knees, hitting the concrete harshly below him. His body gave out from beneath him, his muscles and bones failing him.

It’s there, right in front of him, mocking him and all the shitty decisions he’s made. It’s there—on Y/n’s private Instagram page—a picture of Dan holding Y/n’s hand on top of a table in Monmouth, Harry’s ring wrapped perfectly around his pointer finger.

Steele rose has never looked so good xx.

Sweater Weather

Jughead x Reader

Wordcount: 2.2k

Request: Can you do an imagine where Jughead breaks up with the reader and she doesn’t go  to school for a couple of days and when she returns she’s a mess wearing joggers and something of Jugheads.

Warnings: none/fluff/possible swearing

Summary: Based on the Neighbourhood Sweater Weather, Jughead breaks the readers heart, she’s a mess and when he sees what he’s done he realises it was a mistake.

Originally posted by juptern

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Librarian || Bucky Barnes

Relationship: Librarian!Bucky x reader

Summary: You can’t help but slowly develop feelings for librarian Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: none!!!!!!

Word Count: 977 words

A/N: wow i just couldn’t stop thinking about soft!librarian!bucky and well here you go


Being cooped up in the library from late afternoon to early evening definitely wasn’t the ideal way you’d been wanting to spend your Thursday, but your professors clearly had other plans because they were just piling on the work. 

Although you didn’t mind, simply because the librarian happened to be the cutest boy you’d ever seen. He was tall in stature and very well built, usually wearing a large sweater of sorts paired with some simple black jeans. His brown locks were more often than not pulled into a sleek bun, a couple of strands escaping around his face. 

Your favourite days were when his hair was down, framing his face as he had to tuck the strands behind his ears as he catalogued the various assortment of books.

You remember the first time you met those bright blue eyes, being completely entranced in his gaze, his smile making butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

Do you need any help finding anything?” You heard an unfamiliar voice say behind you, startling you a bit. 

“Oh no I’m okay, I’ll just ask the librarian,” you said somewhat quietly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you admired the man standing in front of you in his dark green jumper. 

“I am the librarian, sweetheart,” he chuckled as your mouth hung open, a string of apologies flowing out as your cheeks blushed at your embarrassment.  

You’d started coming into the library more often because of him, he never failed to brighten up your day. Even if it was a simple hello you got from him, it made your stomach flutter and your heart thud in your chest. 

“Long night again, doll?” You heard a soft voice ask as you pried your tired eyes away from your textbook, “you know it is, Buck,” you giggled as his own heart fluttered loving the way his (nick)name rolled off your lips. 

“You sure you don’t need anything?” He asked, bending down so he was now eye level to you, “I’m sure,” you said sweetly as he nodded, “you know where I am if anything,” he smiled before leaving you be, leaving your heart hammering as usual. 

Bucky had become your safety net through the months, always there to hear you rant about your professors or that one group member that doesn’t do any work.

He’d been there more than once when school had gotten too much for you and you needed a distraction. He’d been more than happy to wheel in an old TV and play old cartoon while making jokes to ease your stress. 

Which is why you weren’t surprised that you had started falling for him, slowly but surely you had developed feelings for him. You never acted on those feelings knowing you’d rather stay friends and not awkward once friends. 

You were also fairly positive that a man with such good looks most definitely had a girlfriend, although you’d never asked since you didn’t exactly want to venture into that territory. 

“Doll,” you heard Bucky’s voice from where he sat at his desk, “it’s time to go,” he said as you looked up and gave him a weak smile before starting to pack up your things. 

You don’t know how it happened but Bucky had walked you back to your place one night and ever since then it had become a tradition and he refused to let you walk home alone. 

You gave him another tired smile, joining beside him as he opened the door for you, the cold autumn air nipping at the delicate skin of your face, “it’s getting cold,” you said absentmindedly as the two of you began walking back to your place. 

It must’ve been a few seconds after those words left your mouth that you felt Bucky place his beanie on top of your head, smoothing it down, “can’t have you getting cold now can we?” He teased as you let out a small laugh. 

You both walked in comfortable silence, one of you occasionally breaking it to point something out as your arms bumped against each others until you made it to the front of your building. 

“Thanks again,” you told Bucky, standing on the second step of the stairs so you were eye level with him, “it was no problem, doll,” he said softly a small smile gracing his features. 

Tonight felt different. 

Bucky had always made an effort in walking you home, especially on late night, but tonight, there was something more glinting in his eyes. He appeared a little on edge, nervous maybe as he fiddled with his fingers. 

“Hey, uh, are you busy tomorrow?” He piped up, meeting your gaze, “I shouldn’t be later in the evening, why?” You asked calmly despite the fact that your heart was beating a million miles a minutes and your thoughts were racing. 

“I was wondering i-if you’d maybe wanna grab some t-tea with me?” He stuttered and you could’ve sworn that your heart ballooned in love for the man who was always so charming now stuttering and tripping over his words. 

“I would really like that, Buck,” you said softly, a smile on your face as one appeared on his face, “I-I’ll pick you up at six?” He asked excitedly as you giggled lightly, “I’ll see you then, Bucky,” you whispered as you leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek before turning around, walking into your building leaving him looking like he slept with a hanger in his mouth. 

His heart fluttered and raced all at the same time the entire way back home as he thought about you, she said yes he mumbled to himself in disbelief as he chuckled to himself. 

“She said yes,” he repeated one last time before walking into his house, anxiously awaiting for your date with him.

swipe right [smut]

A;N: Things and people you meet are not always what they seem. 

Pairing: StilesxReader

Author: thelittlestkitsune

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Explicit Content.

Word count: .9,612

Listen to me.

Originally posted by stilinskisvoid

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Neighbour AU

There are three certainties in life: death, taxes, and Laurent’s neighbours having a loud argument every weekend. Laurent does not pay an exorbitant amount of rent just so that he can be woken up at three in the morning every Saturday because Jokaste is angry at Damen again. It’s bad enough that he knows their names without having ever introduced himself.

And of course, the fights are always followed by even louder make-up sex, as if he needs a weekly reminder that he himself isn’t getting any.

Tonight, it seems, Damen has been locked out of his apartment.

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